Gold and Ivory
by ObsessiveDevil
Summary: Hero of Ishval or traitor of Ishval? "I was looking for clues about Hughes' death." ... "And did you find any?"   Brotherly!RoyHughes. Parental!RoyEd.


Gold and Ivory

ObsessiveDevil23 

Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction

Semi-Alternate Universe Story

Disclaimer: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist, I am not making any money from this.

~ Gold and Ivory ~

The day my parents died he was right there beside me. I don't really remember much about the accident, just a lot of screaming and the bright blue as the car caught alight. People told me afterwards that I was lucky to be alive - that if my mother had not shielded me with her own body I would be dead. I don't understand why people feel the need to tell you these things - as if the burnt tissue on my hands was not enough of a reminder that I was alive while my parents were not. I didn't really need the extra guilt trip. At five years old, bandages wrapped round my burnt hands and my parents dead, I did not feel lucky to be alive.

He was the only one who gave me some sort of solace at that time. He arrived first at the hospital, even before Chris. He argued with the paramedics that had pulled me from the wreckage - I remember his voice (squeaky back then, as he was only eight) ringing out through the hospital halls, bouncing off the pure white that surrounded me. I hated white back then, just as I hate it now. I wanted him to paint it something bold and garish - if only to annoy the doctors who had not been able to save my parents.

Again, it was he that granted me solace and answered my prayers. He painted the whole room that night as he hugged me close (despite the doctor's protests that burn victims were very susceptible to infection). Neither of us knew what susceptible meant back then anyway. Hughes cried all night long - crying the tears that refused to come to me. I decided then and there that I would be a Hughes too, from that moment on - I wanted more then anything else to be like this boy, who was not afraid to cry. The next best thing, for a five year old, was to be his brother. It was a decision that dictated my life, and I made it in the hospital room the night my parents died, as Hughes painted the room with his tears. Painted it gold and ivory.

~ Gold and Ivory ~

There was only one school in our village, and it wasn't very big. That was okay though, because there wasn't very many children in the village to go there. Mum and Dad had wanted me to go to the big posh boarding school in the city over the hill, and we'd been going there to look at the dormitories on the day of the accident. Afterwards, Chris had decided that the village school was as good as any - and I was glad she did, because that was the school that Hughes went to.

We were taught there by two teachers, one who took the little kids, and one who took the older kids. Both were nice enough, if a little strict. I was never caned there, which we were told was almost a promise had I gone to the boarding school in the city.

It was here that I met two other friends - besides Hughes. One was called Jean Havoc, who was always chewing on the end of his pen. Later in life this turned into a bad smoking habit, but back then I had no worries of his chewing other then he was always being snapped at by Ms. Thomas for it. He was six months younger then me, but almost the same height. The second friend I met was a girl. I'd never had to speak to girls my own age before, but she was the daughter of an old man in the village who was sick.

The first time I spoke to her was just after the end of school, about three days after I joined. I was walking home with Hughes and I noticed her sitting by the side of the road. It wasn't dangerous for her to do that, because we never had cars go through our village. Before my parents died they were the only people who lived here who owned a car. I recognised her from class, but I guess I wouldn't have thought anything of it had she not been crying.

"What's wrong?" I asked, having sat down next to her. Hughes hung back. I knew he didn't really know what to do with crying girls.

"The doctors." the girl replied, sobbing. "They can't save my father."

I bit my lip and Hughes sat down on her other side, sighing.

"They couldn't save his parents either." He explained, gesturing towards me. The girl looked between Hughes and I, as if actually seeing us for the first time. Hughes closed his eyes and draped his arms over his knees. "Every second counts now. Unlike him you know that it's coming. So why don't you stop wasting your time crying here, and go home and make his last moments enjoyable?"

Then Hughes stood up and started walking. I followed. I was always following in his footsteps.

~ Gold and Ivory ~

We didn't see the girl for over a week after that. She simply stopped coming to school. The day she finally did come back I will never forget for as long as I live. It was the day I gained a new friend, but it was also the day when we first learnt about the troubles in Ishval.

The girl made a beeline for Hughes and I when she arrived that day.

"I'm Riza Hawkeye." She announced proudly, sticking out her hand. I didn't know what to do, but Hughes held it in his own hand and moved it up and down.

"Maes Hughes." He said, then he placed her hand in mine and I mimicked his movements clumsily.

"Roy." I said. I didn't want to tell her my real name, but I hadn't told Hughes about my decision to become a Hughes too.

It was just as we were making these pleasantries that Ms. Thomas ushered us all inside with an urgency and we were told to shelter under the desks. We met with Jean inside and Hughes pulled all three of us under the nearest cluster of desks. He held me close to his left side and Riza close to his right. I remember that Jean was clinging to me, and if I think hard about the day I can almost still feel his arms squeezing tight around my waist. His eyes were tightly shut, as were Riza's, but Hughes' were open, and therefore so were mine.

It was then that the blast came. It shook the building and Riza screamed. I think I probably did too, and it was then that I shut my eyes - as if shutting everything else out.

Lessons were cancelled that day, but Ms. Thomas wouldn't let anyone go outside. I could see it from the window though - a huge crater in the playing field and one giant, disfigured wing sticking out - pointing towards the sky like the Devils judgemental hand. I badly wanted to go and investigate. I'd heard some of the older kids tell Hughes there was probably a dead body inside, and two a five year old there could be nothing that sounded cooler. Now I would give anything to go back and tell my younger self that there is nothing 'cool' about dead bodies.

Unfortunately, or perhaps luckily, Ms. Thomas wouldn't even entertain the idea of letting us go and check out the plane wreck. She said it was 'too dangerous'. I believed everything adults told me back then, after my weeks of living with Chris she'd managed to drill it into me that grownups were always right. So, when Hughes presented the offer that he and I should sneak out there to take a look, I was torn between wanting some alone time with him, and my loyalty to Ms. Thomas. In the end I repeated to him what she had said, that it was too dangerous.

He told me I was just a wimp.

~ Gold and Ivory ~

Mum and Dad had been pretty rich before the accident. Dad worked in a large company in the city, though I admit I had no clue what he actually did. Mum preferred to live in the calm tranquillity of the village, which was nice for her, but meant that Dad had to get up really early (before I was awake) to commute, and came home late (after I had been put to bed). The only times I saw my father was on Sundays, when we would dress up in our best clothes and go to church. I don't think I have a single memory of my father when he wasn't in a suit.

On the plus side, Dad's income meant that Mum and I could lead a pretty affluent lifestyle in the village. When they died, Dad's savings were transferred to Chris' account, so she was now in charge of his money.

Chris worked at the village bar and liked to live a pretty modest life style - preferring to spend all my father's money on drink, rather then a desperately needed new bed or sofa. I remember a time, when I was leaving to meet with Hughes at the park, when I managed to find the courage to ask if she would lend my some money (For Hughes had suggested going into the city - which I knew was expensive).

"Think of the soldiers sleeping in ditches why don't you!" is what she said.

I didn't know any soldiers, but I couldn't imagine sleeping in a ditch would be very comfortable. I decided to just leave it and tell Hughes I couldn't go into the city with him, even though I knew that Chris probably never thought of the soldiers at all. The troubles in the east, past our village, were still turning over; decided whether they wanted to push themselves into a full scale war or not. The soldiers Chris was talking about didn't really do much in Ishval but calm rebellious citizens. I couldn't imagine they would really be sleeping in ditches, the Ishvallans who saw no need to rebel would probably welcome them and let them stay in a good inn.

Hughes was 12 by this time, to my tender nine year of age, and I had heard him mention on more then one occasion that he'd like to sign up for service and protect the village. At 12 though, no one took his seriously.

"Come back when you're 18." they told him. No one really thought a war would break out, and if it did it would not carry on until a boy of 12 turned 18. I was quite happy knowing that Hughes would never have to go off and serve his country and fight - for if he did that, where would I be? Would I have to go with him? No, we were both perfectly safe in the village and by the time he was old enough to enrol the troubles would be long over. I thought of this as I travelled the familiar path to the park where I would be meeting Hughes - trying to build up the courage to tell him I couldn't go to the city with him. It was then that I first saw her.

She had brown hair and bright green eyes, and was stood outside a mechanics shop ran by old woman Pinako (who in all honesty wasn't that old at that time). Pinako was there, and so was a man in his late twenties with long blonde hair. I'd never seen the man or the girl before - although the girl looked about my age. All I can remember thinking was that she was the prettiest girl I had ever seen in my life - and to this day I stand by those convictions. I didn't have the courage to speak to her then, but I ended up seeing her a lot of times after that, and she, once again, ended up being a rather large influence on the way my life turned out.

In the end Hughes paid for my train ride into the city.

~ Gold and Ivory ~

The first time I ever got lost I was 12 years old, and it was _her_ fault. The girl who I had only seen briefly when I was nine had been quickly forgotten about when she was no longer by the shop the next day. She seemed to have left the village completely, and it wasn't very often that I ventured outside the village parameters. I had put her down to part of a group of travellers who had been passing through and not dwelled on her for long, telling myself I was not _that _upset with the loss of this mystery girl.

Anyway, 12 years old was the year that you move up from being a child in the little kids class, and become a 'young adult' in the upper school class. Hughes had moved up three years ago (and that was why we had been taking a celebratory trip to the city). I had missed not having my best friend sat next to me at school, but it only became completely unbearable when Riza had moved up seven months before me. At that time I felt that Hughes and Riza would become best friends and I would become pushed out. It was a completely horrible feeling and for awhile I was angry at both of them. I am sure they notices, but what could they do? I was just being childish, but if they told me that I would have almost surely have been even more angry at them.

It was during this time though, when Hughes and Riza were in upper school and I was stuck in lower school, that I became better friends with Jean Havoc. We'd been friends before, but we were never particularly close. There was Hughes, Riza and I, and then there was Jean. Jean was nice, but he also had other friends, who were mostly quiet and didn't talk much.

Either way, it was these three (Hughes, Riza and Jean) who arrived on my doorstep the day of my 12th birthday. They were a little early because my birthday had fallen on a Thursday that year and we didn't want to be late for school. They were strict, there, about tardiness. We wanted to go down to the village stream before school.

It was a stream, not a river. It was big enough to have a few fish in it, but not big enough to be called a river. And it was across the stream, in the forest on the other side, that I saw her for a second time. She was wearing a white dress if I remember correctly, which wasn't very practical for a stroll in the muddy forest. It only took me a second to make up my mind - I was older now and all the girls said I was becoming quite good-looking. I was across the stream and deep into the forest before I knew what I was doing. By the time I came to my senses she, and my friends, were nowhere in sight. I had never ventured across the other side of the stream and into the woods before, and it didn't take me long to realise I was completely lost.

I don't know how long I ended up wondering around the forest, looking for any sign of the girl or my friends, as I did not have a watch. I knew I was probably late for school. I wouldn't have been surprised if Hughes, Riza and Jean had gone ahead without me. However much time had passed, it _felt_ like hours before I finally gave up and sat down, resting my back against one of the many trees. Then, she found me.

She came from above, falling out of the tree I was using as my resting post, and landing in my lap. She let out a string of curses I had only ever heard the city boys use, and which made me blush slightly. Girls weren't supposed to talk like that! When she opened her eyes and looked at me they were definitely the bright green I remembered from three years ago.

"Hello there!" she smiled, open mouthed and toothy. She definitely had a confidence about her that none of the village girls possessed. She was obviously from the city, which posed the question of why she was here. "I'm Trisha, I wonder if you can help me?" she asked. Trisha, I remember thinking, was a very pretty name.

"Roy." I introduced myself as she stood and helped me to my feet. She was at the stage of her development where she was just beginning to get the beginnings of a figure - like most of the girls who had moved up to upper school a year above me.

"Hello Roy." she said, still smiling. "I'm afraid I am rather lost. I am looking for a mechanics shop run my a lady named Pinako. I should be meeting Hohenheim there. Could you point me in the right direction?"

I knew where the shop was, it was the same shop she had been standing by when I first saw her. Unfortunately I had no idea where _we_ were. I shrugged.

"I'm kinda lost too." I explained. "Who's Hohenheim?" I asked, hoping to keep conversation going with this girl whom I had secretly been loving for three years. She grinned at my question.

"My husband to be of course!"

Naturally, this announcement was crushing.

"You're not old enough to marry!" I exclaimed, and watched as she placed her hands on her hips and furrowed her brow at me. Even when she was angry I thought she was pretty.

"I am 13 years old! That's plenty old enough!"

It was then that Hughes found us. He showed Trisha to the shop when she asked for his help and we both skipped school that day, as we were really late anyway. I remember walking away from the shop with Hughes as Trisha jumped into the arms of the tall blonde man in his late twenties I had been her with when I was nine. She called him Hohenheim when she talked to him, but I couldn't believe she would marry some old man.

~ Gold and Ivory ~

Hughes and I never fought physically; it was rare that we even argued, even though our personalities were really different. When I moved up to the upper school, Hughes was just a few months away from turning 15 - the year he would have to finish school all together and find a job. While that thought certainly scared me, I was determined to make the months we had left in school count.

Surprisingly, it was a girl that came between us.

Her name was Gracia, she was 14 years old and I had no interest in her romantically, though I could admit she was pretty. Hughes, on the other hand, thought she was everything. I thought she was just getting in the way of the friendship that Hughes, Riza and I had. Hughes always wanted to be with her rather then us - and when he was with us all he would talk about was her. I resented her for it, even though it wasn't really her fault. Despite all of this, I was 13 by the time I did anything about it.

Hughes had found work in the city by this point, so we hardly ever got to see him. Riza didn't seem to mind, and while I was happy to be with her, I still felt like I was losing my brother. It was obvious that it wouldn't be long before Hughes was thinking about permanently moving to the city with Gracia and raising a family - and I couldn't stand to let that happen.

I confronted him about it on a weekend he was back from the city, and I met him outside the old park. Ironically, this was the same park I had been meeting him at the day I had found my first love. I remember very clearly that Hughes told me he didn't have much time as he was going to meet Gracia. I told him then that it was upsetting me that he never had time for Riza and I anymore, and his obsession with Gracia was ruining our friendship. I must have been taking a long time explaining myself because he kept checking his watch.

"You're being so childish." He said once I was done. So I hit him.

~ Gold and Ivory ~

Hughes seemed to work out a system after that. One weekend off from work he'd spend with Gracia, the next with us. Soon, Gracia went to live with Hughes permanently in the city, as I had feared, so Hughes started spending every weekend with us - which made me feel better.

When I was 14 I quit school early and got myself a job on the farm at the outskirts of the village. I'd had to because Chris had spent all of my fathers money on drink, as well as all of her own earnings, and she could no longer afford to look after me. For all of her imperfections I did love my guardian, and I felt very grateful to her, so it just felt right that as soon as I could I should start paying for my own way. Farm workers don't get the weekend off though, so Hughes would take Riza to the fence on Saturdays and they would poke fun at me while I heaved hay and mucked out pig sty's. It was during this year that three very important things happened.

The first was that I became particularly attached to an elderly horse on the farm. She had become quite skinny and weak and was no longer any good for farm work -although she was a perfectly healthy animal. Nevertheless, I knew it was only a matter of time before the boss had her shot. I asked Hughes for help, and one Saturday night, when the rest of the village were asleep of enjoying some drinks at the bar, we smuggled her out and set her free on the fields on the opposite side of the village. The group of mustangs that lived there welcomed her into their pack almost instantly. I never regretted doing it, even though I lost my job.

~ Gold and Ivory ~

I found work at the bar pretty quickly after that. I had recommendation for Chris and the owner was happy to have a good-looking young lad as a waiter. You'd be surprised how many people would come in just to stare at me. I was good business. Besides, there were no animals to take pity on and set free here. The best part was that while I was worried I would have Chris' eyes watching me wherever I went, I was wrong. Chris spent almost all of her time in the kitchen offices, while I was always on the bar floor, more often and not being stared at like a piece of meat, or sized up to see if it was a good idea for the men to take me on. While it wasn't ideal, it paid well and meant I had a lot of free time because I was only ever needed in the evenings.

Working in the bar is great if you're a gossip, and as a waiter, everyone who came through the doors had something to tell me. Most of it was trivial, but I remember the summer when three soldiers walked into the bar, wearing smart blue uniforms and looking smug. They ordered their drinks and I learned they were just passing through our 'quant little Eastern village' (their words not mine) on their way to Ishval.

I was under the impression that the troubles in Ishval had died down about six months prior to this, but under my questioning, I was laughed at.

"The troubles may have died down kid." Said one, "But the war has only just begun."

He said it confidently, as if 'only just beginning' meant 'we're about to end it'. Another chimed in.

"With us trained soldiers going in there this war will be one before you get your newspaper tomorrow morning!" He yelled, and the other two cheered and bashed their glasses on the table. I admit I knew very little of the Ishval conflict at this point, but their happiness was infectious and I found I was excited about the idea of these soldiers protecting our village and the many Eastern premises around it. I had grown up living with 'the troubles' in Ishval. Perhaps it turning into a war was not a bad thing after all, for a war could be ended.

~ Gold and Ivory ~

The last important thing to happen to me during this year involved Trisha, as important things that happen to me often do.

I had resigned myself to accepting I would never be loved by her last year when, at 14 years old, she had married that wretched old man. Hohenheim. I still thought she was too young to marry, but lots of girls in the village married at that age at that time, so in the end it was probably my jealously speaking.

Every time Trisha came to the village she would seek me out and chat with me. When I worked at the farm she would come to feed the chickens. Until, when I was working in the bar, she officially moved to the village. She and the old man were having a celebratory drink in the bar - Hohenheim and beer and Trisha a lemonade. I remember because I served them. That's how I found out they had moved here.

"What's made you decide to live here?" I asked conversationally as I placed their order down in front of them. I only addressed Trisha as I hated looking at the old man. Trisha gave me her usual smile - sometimes I wondered if she knew how I felt about her.

"For soon we shall have the pitter patter of little feet!" she exclaimed excitedly, and I thought that she did not, for what woman could be so cruel as to happily tell a man who loved her something so crushing if she knew that he loved her? "and the city is no place to raise a child."

If was not as if I hadn't noticed the swelling of her belly, or the way she refused to go near alcohol. Yet, hearing it straight from her mouth was another thing entirely. My first reaction was to swear to hate this unborn child. After all, it was the product of the man who had beaten me for Trisha's affections. Yet, as the months past and Hohenheim started working extra hours in the city, Trisha spent extra hours with me. I had a lot of free time now I was working in the bar and I was happy to spend my days helping Trisha around the house. Despite all the men in the bar at night telling me I was sloppy with their drinks because I was spending all my time being a live-in-nanny, which was somewhat a blow to my pride.

Even so, I never snapped at the men, and I never snapped at Trisha, even though sometimes I wondered if I was going soft because of her. Over the months as she grew larger and needed more help, I was happy to give it. She was obviously having a boy, as shown by the extra weight on her hips, which is a sure sign that a woman is having a boy. It made me proud to think that I felt him kick at her stomach before the old man. He was strong and healthy, and I found I could not truly hate this unborn child.

~ Gold and Ivory ~

War broke out just before my 15th birthday. It was obvious by this point that the military were losing badly to the Ishvallan rebels. The military were greatly outnumbered and were appealing to the citizens for help. Imploring anyone with basic knowledge of a gun to sing up to help the war effort.

Trisha had just given birth to a healthy, happy child. He was so small, I remember thinking, as I held him in my arms. He was already a few days old when I worked up the courage to ask to hold him - as it turned out I never actually had to ask, because Trisha got there before me, asking if I would like to hold him. I don't think I'd ever agreed to anything more readily. By that time he already had a tuft of blonde hair that marked him as Hohenheim's.

"We're calling him Edward." Trisha told me one afternoon when the old man was at work and I was at her home, helping her look after the kid. It had been three weeks since he had been born and they had struggled to come up with a name they book liked. I looked down at the little boy in my arms, he had already fallen asleep there, and it was rare for him to be so calm. I couldn't help but think that Edward suited him.

It was that afternoon, with the sun and Trisha and little Edward that I swore on my life I would do anything within my power to protect this little boy.

~ Gold and Ivory ~

I joined the army shortly after I turned 15. Before hand you had to be 18 to sign up, but given the situation they had lowered that age. I was glad they had to, for a number of reasons. One, I wanted to protect Edward, and I could see no better way of doing that then joining the army and fighting for this country. Secondly, the men at the bar had really started to annoy me with their nanny jokes and I wanted to prove to them that I was a good a man as any other. Third, and probably most importantly, was it was also the year Hughes signed up. Living in the East, both of us thought we were a little too close to Ishval to live happily and not worry about our loved ones everyday. For Hughes it was Gracia and for me it was Trisha and Edward. At least if we were fighting the war it felt like we were doing something to help them.

For a time things seemed good. I had been out of contact with Hughes for awhile. Since I had been working in the bar and Riza found work in the city as a secretary for some big-shot; Trisha seemed to have taken up all of my time. I am sure Hughes didn't mind that I had stopped being childish, wanting to spend every moment with him. It gave him more time to spend with Gracia. Being with Trisha meant I better understood how Hughes felt when he was away from Gracia.

Still, none of these revelations stopped me from signing up under the name Roy Hughes. My friend gave me a look, but said nothing of it. I am sure he knew from a long time ago the decision I had made the night my parents died. None of the army officials cared enough to look into it, they just took my photograph and asked for a signature. It was easy to sign R. Hughes.

From that day on, according to state military, I was _Roy_ Hughes.

~ Gold and Ivory ~

I expected having my best friend back in my life again to be a little awkward. We had gone from barely seeing each other to sharing a bunk-bed. Yet, during our training, we easily fell back into our old habits and easily become Roy and Hughes again. We were both just enlisted men, so our commander called Hughes by his last name and me by my first. Which I guess is how I got into the habit of called Hughes by his last name. We were often asked if we were brothers, though many commented that we didn't look much alike, they said it would be somewhat of a coincidence for there to be two separate Hughes' family in the same area - for they knew we had signed up from the same place. I expected Hughes to tell them the truth, but he easily lied that we were cousins.

He was pretty good at spinning a web of lies.

We spent a lot of time during our training spending late nights at the bar in the local town. Girls came here to chat up the soldiers, and many time they would make a beeline for Hughes. I couldn't blame them, at 18 years old he was certainly an attractive man. Yet, Hughes was always faithful to Gracia and would send the girls my way instead. That's how I learnt how to seduce women. I'd spend hours talking with them before I also told them I had someone special back home. This seemed to go for weeks before a girl took my fancy. By this time, Hughes had given up on coming to the bar all together.

She was a little older then me, at 17, yet she never seemed to patronise me like the other girls in town. We conversed all night the first night, where I learnt she was the daughter of a flower merchant and they were staying in the town on their way to the winter festival a couple of towns over. The next night I asked where her mother was and she told me she had none. I said I was sorry. She said I was cute.

On the third night she took me back to her room in the inn she was staying at. Her father, she said, would be drinking until late. That was the first time I ever had sex.

By the next night, she had left down.

~ Gold and Ivory ~

We'd spend a lot of time writing letters to Riza during our training; using bad pits of paper and whatever ink we could get our hands on. The letters outlined how our training was going - good - and our adventures in the local town (although I never mentioned the girls). Hughes wrote endless letters to Gracia, and I found I wrote a letter to Trisha without even realising it. It sent my good will to her and my love for little Edward. I wrote that the sun was still shinning, despite it being well into winter and that I could imagine little Edward was starting to try and sit up. Had his hair grown? Had he started to gurgle and try to speak yet? I also wondered how she was doing - was it lonely without Hohenheim or myself there?

I never posted the letter.

Of course, having sent to many letters wishing Riza's safety at home, it was a great shock when she turned up at our camp, gun in hand, hair cut short and Jean Havoc in toe.

It didn't take long to trade with Havoc that if he didn't mention my real last name I wouldn't mention he had signed up for duty two months early. We could both be chucked out for things like that. Or worse. Riza of course, was always tight lipped about everything, so she didn't worry either of us.

Going down into two was different now though. I was no longer the boy my first sexual escapade had turned me into. After her I seemed to have a string of girls all rallying for my sexual favours, and I admit that I was exactly choosey with them. Now I had Riza sitting next to me at the bar and her strict military attitude scared most girls off. To be honest I didn't mind - I even faintly toyed with the idea of inviting Riza to a room in the local inn. There was no denying she had grown into a pleasing young woman. I don't know what held me back in the end - perhaps because I had known her for so long I could never think of her as anything other then a friend - despite admiring her beauty. I never wanted to hurt someone so close to me.

Riza being there though, did not only change how easy it was for me to pick up girls. It was hard of Hughes too.

Hughes never knew about Trisha, in the first few weeks when I refused the women in the town I believe he thought I was talking about Riza when I told them of my special someone back home. By the time I did go home with a girl, Hughes had given up going all together. It was obvious he though I was still faithful to the girl I loved from home, and it was also obvious that he believed that girl to be Riza. In some ways, he was right. I was certainly glad to have Riza back at my side. Besides Trisha, who was a hopeless cause, she was my favourite girl in the world. Heck, one day I might grow to love her as more then a friend, who was I to say? It was sad that there was a girl back home that Hughes was pining for, and we could no longer share in those feelings. Hughes had to suffer being without Gracia while I had Riza back by my side. So that was why I shot him in the foot.

~ Gold and Ivory ~

Later Havoc told me I was damn lucky that he was slow to get the mechanics of a gun and was able to cover for me by pretending to have accidentally pulled the trigger and hit Hughes. He said I could have been court marshalled for it. I thanked him for his kindness.

Hughes had to have surgery on his foot to reconstruct it, luckily, he didn't need Automail, which was even more expensive in those days. During the months it took for his foot to heal he was sent home and allowed to see Gracia. Apparently she was conflicted between angry, upset and happy to see him, yet I never felt guilty about it. While Hughes was sent home, our unit was sent out on to the battle field.

It was the first time I had ever actually seen an Ishvallan.

Their soldiers were in rags, compared to our smart blue uniforms, and they looked as if they hadn't washed for days. Some were so impossibly skinny it was obvious that they had been starving for a prolonged amount of time. I didn't understand how our war effort was so down in dumps, when compared to these soldiers we were almost living in five star luxury. I didn't think I'd ever seen anything so downright depressing. I knew I shouldn't feel sorry for the enemy; all the times our General had tried to drill into us feelings to zero sympathy had been for nothing. One look at the poor Ishvallans and I wanted to do everything in my power to _help_ them, rather then destroy them.

Guns went off everywhere and we spent a lot of time in the bunker the last regiment had left for us there. We improved upon it, re-building what had been lost in previous attacks. Someone was always on guard at the entrance, and at that time you weren't allowed to smoke. If you were inside the bunker it was okay, because the smoke could not rise and give away our position, outside however, if anyone lit a cigarette they could easily be court marshalled. This was particularly hard on Havoc, who had become a chain smoker pretty quickly after the first couple of days out on the field. I didn't blame him, with all the smoke in the bunker even I found myself puffing on a few badly rolled fags. I had the lighter that I had taken from Hughes before he left for home, I used to click it at night to try and drown out the screams from outside. Now, more then ever, I regretted sending him home. I needed Hughes here with me - to comfort me like he had the night my parents died, and paint the bunker Gold and Ivory.

I tried to imagine it with my mind, but the colours never shone as brightly as they did that night, it was never the same if Hughes wasn't there to cry it all out.

~ Gold and Ivory ~

By the time Hughes returned there were rumours going around that there was a spy in the military, as several secret bases had been attacked by Ishvallans, there was almost no doubt that these rumours were true. Most people thought it was a higher-up, which just made it all the most frightening. All military personnel who had Ishvallan blood in them were taken for intense questioning and all soldiers were told to keep a close eye on one another and report anything suspicious. With everyone suspecting everyone, morale was low.

That night Havoc was on guard duty, which was particularly hard for the chain smoker. Hughes arrived late and strolled past him with a cheery smile, not stopping for a chat. He strode confidently into the bunker and I stood to greet him. I imagine I probably had some stupid grin on my face - I don't think I had ever been so happy to see him.

He didn't even say hello before he punched me. On the jaw. Hard. I fell back and I think a few of the men yelled their protests. Hughes stood straight and grinned down at me.

"We're not even. One day, I promise I will find an excuse to shoot you."

Then he laughed. I laughed too, and I think we surprised the men because soon they were all laughing. Even though one day I know Hughes would make good on his promise I didn't seem to care, for it had been so long since I had heard laughter.

~ Gold and Ivory ~

The war dragged on for longer then expected, we were ordered not to attack unless the Ishvallans tried a direct raid on our bunker, and they never did. We were to wait for the State Alchemists to arrive, and secretly I was anticipating their arrival. I'd spent so many nights studying Riza's fathers notes that I was pretty confident in my own skill, and I wanted to see if I had what it took to be a State Alchemist.

I had survived well into my 16th year on earth, and come October it amused me to think that little Edward would now be one year old. I often found that my thoughts wondered back to Trisha. I guess one never truly forgets ones first love. I wondered if the old man ever stopped working such long hours in the city, and, once again, if Trisha was lonely without me.

It was during my 16th year that we finally found the spy.

I was on guard duty when I saw him - the Colonel working under our General. He didn't come by that often as he had to see to a lot of different units in lots of different bunkers around Ishval, but he had a face that was hard to forget. He had scars all along the right side of it and he never took off his glasses. Some of the men used to joke that his eyes were red, but no one could ever prove any Ishvallan background. He was quite far away, in one of the old stone shelters that was completely blown away on one side, but I could still see the scars and the glasses and the blue uniform, and that's how I knew it was him. Usually I wouldn't have been bothered, expect he was quite happily talking to two Ishvallans and there was no suggestion of any kind of struggle or fight - as if he was working with the Ishvallans.

I could have taken my rifle and aimed and got a good shot at the Ishvallans. All would have been over. But in the end my feelings of sympathy for the Ishvallan people won through and I decided to investigate more.

Leaving my post was my second mistake. The first mistake I had made over a year before hand.

Once I was closer I could hear him conversing with the Ishvallans. It only took two separate pieces of information for me to be certain that the Colonel was a spy. A place, and a time. The Ishvallans were planning their next attack, on another base a mile or two west of ours.

My second mistake was not properly assessing the situation. According to what my eyes told me there was the Colonel and two Ishvallan soldiers, my body told me later that there was at least three more that had been keeping watch in the shadows. Before I knew what was happening I was hauled in front of the Colonel, my knees kicked in by Ishvallans and then they were back in the their post - undetectable. The Colonel looked down at me with a grin that look maniacal with his scars and glasses.

"Ah, Roy Hughes. Just the boy I wanted to see." He waved some papers in my wave, as if this had any meaning to me. I spat at his feet, glaring upwards. He raised his eyebrows at me like I was a naughty puppy that amused him. "Yes, yes. It's all the usual. How could you do this Colonel? Are you a mad-man Colonel? I can read everything thought in your head dear boy."

I remember him saying it all clearly. His voice was slightly too high for his muscular body and he really did look like a mad man. I hated the way he called me boy.

"Even if you kill me they'll know you are the spy." I told him, sounding much more confident then I felt. People say they stare death in the face and they'd be perfectly calm. That's bullshit. I was practically wetting myself. Especially when his grin turned positively feral.

"Oh I don't plan on killing you! You're right, that would be a foolish plan. Oh no. You see my boy, you're little deceit has proved quite useful to me." He waved the papers around again and this time I knew what they were. "There on to me, you see. But you! You're perfect! Who would believe a brat soldier over a defined Colonel? Especially when that soldier lies about his name and leaves his post?"

I realised that he was right. Telling them I was called Hughes had been a huge mistake, and when the rumours started going around about the spy I should have realised that it would have been checked into. No one would believe me if the Colonel decided to make out as if I was the spy and he had caught me? But what could I do? He had the papers in his hand.

It took all of two seconds to shoot both Ishvallans and train my gun on the Colonels head. My training had not been a complete loss, and it is amazing what one can do when faced with the prospect of losing his life. The Ishvallans really should have taken my gun. In the end it didn't matter, because by the time that was done the Colonel had his gun pulled on me. Now it was just a game of chicken.

Then the Colonel spoke.

"Hughes! I have the spy! Don't shoot! Where are the other Ishvallans?"

"Dead."

Hughes voice sounded raspy, my eyes flickered to his for a moment to see his gun smoking. He had shot them.

"Good man." The Colonel congratulated. "Here is the spy. I know you have been friends for a long time, but you have no need to cover for him anymore. I am certain he used your name so he could bring you down with him if he was ever caught out. He's obviously a mad man." The Colonel waved the papers that proved my name was fake once again. My eyes flickered to Hughes just for another second and saw him calmly focus his gun on me.

~ Gold and Ivory ~

After all the days growing up in the village, all the days complaining about school, or just skipping it altogether. All the nights when he'd cry me to sleep, all the friends we'd made and all the mini adventures we'd make a big deal over. After the fights and the girls and the work and the training. After the village and the city, after Gracia and Trisha and Edward. After the nameless flower girl and Riza and keeping Jean's secret that he'd signed up too young. After sending him home with a bullet through his toes, after all the letters home in the sun and the long nights drowning out the screams with the click of a lighter. After all the nights I wished to see Gold and Ivory painted on the walls of our bunker, as we huddled together in the cold - it all lead up to this? Maes Hughes. My best friend. My brother. Believed the Colonel over me?

He'd once promised he'd find an excuse to shoot me, and now here we was with the gun trained on my head. He was once again crying the tears that refused to come to me, and I saw that, shining down his cheeks, painting them.

"I'm sorry Roy." He choked, both hands on his fun to steady it, yet I could see it was still shaking.

"Don't be sorry soldier." Said the Colonel. "You weren't to know."

Hughes nodded.

"You're right. Sorry Colonel."

And still he cried, his cheeks shining gold and ivory.

~ Gold and Ivory ~

The shot ran out loud and clear, then a hand clamped down over my mouth to stop me from screaming. My knees gave out and we fell to the floor together under my dead weight. I watched, wide eyed, as blood pooled on the sandy floor of the shelter. Strange, how I could feel Hughes tears on my shoulder, but I couldn't feel anything else. I couldn't even feel my gun in my hand where I clutched it loosely. The colonel slumped to the floor, eyes open in shock but chest burst open with the force of the bullet Hughes had fired into him. Hughes took my gun out of my hand and replaced it with his. He grabbed the lighter from my pocket, where it had been since I took it from him before I sent him home with a bullet in his foot, and I could only watch at his burnt the papers that were proof of my real name.

"Here's the story we go by, because no one is going be believe that two officers who left their posts and shot a Colonel were completely innocent."

I knew he was right. He swallowed deeply and I could see his hands shaking as he dropped the lighter to the ground.

"You were the spy and the Colonel found you out. I tried to stop you from killing him but during our skirmish we ended up swapping guns - and that's why he was shot with a Luger bullet and not a rifle one." He paused, refusing to look at me. He dropped my rifle to the floor and stamped on it, making the barrel slightly bent so it couldn't shoot any more. "I tried to shoot you on the way out but the gun jammed." A ghost of a smile ran across his lips. "You took my gun and escaped, and we never saw me cousin, Roy Hughes, again."

And then I ran. I never stopped running. Somehow I managed to escape the Ishvallan battle fields with a beaten up Luger Semi-Automatic as my only protection. I stripped the uniform and boarded the next train to any location in a civilian clothing I had stolen from an Ishvallan home. I died my hair and spent a lot of my savings on bleaching my skin. By the time I was finished messing with my appearance I didn't recognise myself, so I doubted anyone else would recognise me. I signed up again from Central Amestris under a new name as a State Alchemist and easily proved my skills. By the time I was 17 I was back in Ishval. Hughes and Riza were the only ones who recognised me, though I often suspected Jean Havoc knew more then he was letting on. All three of them kept my secret.

I chose Mustang after the horse I had set free from my first job. I don't know why that memory stuck out amongst the rest, maybe because it symbolised freedom, which was now the one thing I craved for most? As an Alchemist I had more power and I massacred the Ishvallans with no mercy, all the while dreaming of a better place where Hughes could marry Gracia and Trisha could raise little Edward in peace. It was a place where Riza was able to be a fancy looking secretary for a well-to-do-man and the military state wasn't run by spies and assassins.

I was called a hero of the Ishvallan War, at least, Roy Mustang was anyway. Roy Hughes, the other me, was remembered as a spy. Personally, I didn't know which one was worse.

~ Gold and Ivory ~

"What are you doing?"

Edward Elric folded the leather bound journal closed and looked up to see the familiar frame of his commanding officer in the doorway. The man was silhouetted because it was bright in the corridor outside, and the lighting in the office was dim. Roy could see Ed easily though. He was sat on the desk with the book in his lap and as the boy looked up Roy noticed his cheeks were streaked with tears. When he spoke, his voice croaked.

"I was looking for clues about Hughes' death."

Roy tensed.

"And did you find any?"

Ed shook his head.

"I liked your story though. Good plot line."

Roy didn't seem to relax, but he took a few steps into the office.

"You shouldn't go through other peoples private things."

Ed shrugged, running his fingers over the cover of the book. "I liked the baby."

This, despite everything, made Roy smirk. Ed carried on, holding the journal to his chest as if it rightfully belonged to him.

"I'm a bit annoyed that the main character didn't end up with his one true love though! I sure that…. I think…" He trailed off, looking down at his lap.

"What?" asked Roy.

"You should call it 'the memoirs of Roy Hughes' or something." suggested Ed, avoiding the topic. He stood and gave Roy the book, although he seemed reluctant to part with it. As he made his way out the door he said:

"The main character would have made a better dad then Hohenheim ever was."


End file.
